Booshback Mountain
by SisiDraig
Summary: Yeah, shoot me for the cheesy title. Boosh Brokeback Mountain crossover, as though you hadn't worked it out Vince and Howard are cowboys in need of work, who find more that just friendship on Brokeback. Fluff/Angst/ Probable eventual character death.
1. Chapter 1

**D/C: I own nothing!!**

* * *

"If you two are looking for work you best come in."

Howard looked up at the other man stood in the small court yard, he was skinny, pale and had longer hair then any man should by rights but he seemed calm, much calmer than Howard. He just rested against the bonnet of his car taking a long, final drawl of his fag. Howard guessed he was one of those rodeo types but he didn't ask. As a rule, he didn't like rodeo boys and they never liked him, this was shaping up to be a difficult summer.

The other man stood up lazily, flicking his cigarette idly to the floor and strolled through the shack door, Howard following on after him, head dipped. He didn't want to make eye contact, if nothing else, being here was an embarrassment. It just screamed 'I'm short on money' and Howard didn't like that. He liked to think he didn't depend on nobody.

Howard virtually switched off as his new boss, Fossil, told him the arrangements. He only tuned in again when Fossil was pointing directly at him and saying "And you, you're the tender. You stay at the main camp."

Howard was furious. He didn't want to be no tender, a tender is just a fancy name for a housewife. He'd cook and clean while this thin, weedy man was going up on the hill, herding. Howard was herder by rights. This other man didn't look like he'd know nothing about it and Howard had a feeling this skinny-runt wouldn't handle a gun too good either.

"You have your meals at the camp." Fossil continued, to the other man, "But you sleep with the sheep, no fire mind you. Start tomorrow." And with out saying another word, Fossil relaxed in his chair and began to make a phone call, which appeared to be the signal that it was time to leave.

Howard walked out in silence, the other man following quietly behind him but Howard could feel his presence. He was just a fraction of a step too close for Howard's comfort. As soon as the door had shut behind them, the other man held out his hand and introduced himself as;

"Vince Noir."

"Moon." Howard replied, taking the hand. Good strong handshake, Howard noted.

"Moon, that it? No proper first name?" Vince grinned, a child-like, light-up-the-room grin that meant even his bright blue eyes shone.

"Howard. Howard Moon."

"Nice to know you Howard Moon." he grinned and then; "Pup?"

Howard shrugged silently.

"I know a great place." smiled Vince. "Not far from here, you can follow me if ya like."

So that's how Howard Moon and Vince Noir ended up at a bar, Vince saying too much and Howard saying too little.

"You ever been up on Brokeback before?"

"No." Howard shook his head, eyes fixed on his beer, letting the prattling man's words wash over him.

"It rained last year. Really pissed it down and Fossil went crazy on my ass. Acting like I had some kinda control over the weather. Can't please him. Can't never please Fossil. I'm used to it though. He's like my old man. Can't please him either. No damned way. He hates the way I dress." Howard found himself looking Vince up and down with a glance, maybe his jeans were a little tight and his shirt a little too expensive but he didn't look too bad. "That's how I got into rodeo." Howard knew it, he knew he'd be a rodeo boy. "Try to impress him, you know. You ever rodeo?"

Howard shook his head.

"Never?" Vince looked at him like he was crazy. "I don't believe it. Rodeo's the best. That eight seconds of crazy adrenaline, better than any other feeling in the world." he paused and then, seemingly allerigic to the impending silence, he said; "So what? You own a ranch?"

"Sorta."

"So, what you doing here? Don't you need to be there working?"

"No, I need the money." Howard sighed and seeing Vince's confusion he explained; "Couldn't pay the bills so… the bank took the ranch. I'm just out here trying to survive." He didn't know why he was telling this to a complete stranger but something about Vince was strangely relaxing. He felt almost familiar.

--

Howard arrived early the next morning and was surprised to see Vince already there. He was expecting the skinny rodeo-boy to be a good few hours late.

"Alright." Vince had grinned when he'd arrived; always bloody grinning. "You gotta choose your horse."

Howard chose a good horse; quiet and obedient. Howard liked things that were quiet and obedient, they made him feel safe and in control. Just as he was tying the last bag to his horse, a distressed neigh distracted him. He looked up to find Vince, laughing like a madman, being thrown about my a fierce mare.

"You wanna watch yourself on that one." Howard warned, "She's got a low startle point."

"Ain't nothing I can't handle." Vince beamed. "Ain't no mare ever thrown me yet. Ain't no mare gonna throw me neither."

Cocky git. Howard just clenched his jaw. It wouldn't do to start a fight with this idiot already.

--

It seemed to take them ages to reach the camp and Vince didn't shut up the entire way. By the time they saw the clearing by the river, Howard was sure he could've written Vince's biography had he wanted to. They spent the remainder of the morning chopping up tree's, building a fire and fixing the tent, which took much longer that it should've but Vince appeared to be entirely incapable of doing anything. Howard was quickly learning that Vince wasn't the most smartest bull in the ranch and that, coupled with his constant ramblings about rodeo and his outfit, should have driven a loner like Howard crazy but, strangely, the endless wittering seemed to fade into the distance, like pleasant background noise, and Vince's incompetence just made putting the tent up more amusing. Amazingly, when evening rolled around and Vince had gone up to the herd, Howard found he kind of missed the younger, jabbering man.

--

The moon shone big and round in the twinkling night sky, the mountains cutting jagged lines into the would-be smooth scenery and Vince could see for miles and miles. The view should have been breathtaking but Vince wasn't interested. He was just lighting a smoke and watching the sheep as they went about their lives. The occasional bleat was all that broke the heavy silence and Vince sighed. He hated the quiet. It was too… boring.

Just then, an icy wind picked up around him and he pulled his thin jacket tight around his shoulders. He could really do with a fire, stupid Fossil and his rules. He'd probably freeze up here tonight. His eyes flicked jealously to the smoke in the distance that he knew was Howard's fire. He wished he was down there now; warm and with company. He smiled. He had a good feeling about this summer. Howard seemed alright. He wasn't like that jerk of a guy last year or the year before. He was quiet, enigmatic and... intriguing and Vince was definitely intrigued.


	2. Chapter 2

Vince yawned loudly, making a big show of stretching and rubbing his bleary eyes. Howard looked up from his cooking. The poor guy looked knackered. He was pale, well _paler,_ and he had dark rings under his eyes. When Vince looked up, Howard was still staring at him so the younger man forced a smile;

"You know, I don't reckon Fossil's got no right making me go up there at night with no fire. I swear I almost froze my ass off."

"Hmmm." grumbled Howard, prodding again at the bubbling beans and trying desperately not to think about Vince's frozen ass.

"I can't wait to get my own place so I don't have to take none of Fossil's crap no more."

"I'm saving for somewhere too; me and Hannah. She's my... we're getting married when I get down off this mountain."

Vince nodded but something about his smile faltered, just for a second, then he said;

"Still, I can't wait to not be under Fossil's control anymore."

On the outside, Howard remained entirely unchanged but inside, his mind was puzzling Vince's reaction. It was almost like he'd completely ignored what Howard had said, where as yesterday, he'd latched onto any utterance from the sullen man in the desperation to form a conversation. It was almost like he was angry or... jealous? But Howard quickly shook this feeling off, telling himself; 'he's probably just tired'.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of breakfast, the weird silence dragging on and on until Vince grunted some form of thanks, dropped his tin plate and went to saddle his horse. Howard was still tidying away the dishes when he heard the familiar sound of distressed neighing and the pained shouting of instructions, which told him Vince had mounted his unpredictable horse. Then, without a word, he was galloping off into the distance. Howard watched him while he rode, his skinny form bouncing on the galloping horse and a weird empty feeling hit the pit of his stomach. Cleary he hadn't enough beans.

--

Howard didn't know what to do with himself. After cleaning the dishes, cleaning his clothes, and what must have been hours worth of whittling, he was totally out of ideas of how to kill the everlasting boredom. He wanted to be up herding, at least then he'd have some kind of job to do. Just then a loud crack of distant thunder rumbled across the mountain range and Howard's eyes were drawn instinctively to where he thought Vince would be. The skinny, rodeo-boy wouldn't have a clue what to do if the sheep got spooked, he was sure of it. Luckily, the storm didn't come to much and finally, the sound of hooves on compacted dirt told Howard, Vince had returned.

"There was a coyote today." Vince said, leaping from the horse and tying it up. "Had it's eye on a nice bit of mutton, I reckon. It was stalking them out for ages."

"You shoot it?" Howard muttered, glad to find Vince was in a chatty mood again. He didn't think he could have handled that awkwardness again.

"Yeah, one bullet, right between the eyes." Vince beamed proudly but there was something telling about the way he tugged on his hat and Howard said;

"You missed, didn't you?"

"Screw you."

Howard smirked.

"What's for lunch?"

"Beans."

"Oh what? Again. I'm sick of damn beans. When our delivery comes this afternoon you better ask for soup."

"I don't like soup."

"But I can't just eat beans. I swear to God, I'll begin to look like a flaming bean."

"Mm."

"I'm serious. No more beans."

"I've cooked them now."

"Fine, but after this, no more, got it?"

"Well, I ain't ordering soup. I don't like it." He was adamant. He remained adamant throughout dinner and was still adamant right up until he was handing over the list for new supplies, complete with the new order of 'soup'.

--

Vince returned to the clearing and was surprised to find no one there. Oh this was all he flaming needed. Didn't Howard know he'd been working his ass off all day? All he wanted was to come and get a meal a warm meal, maybe have a wash.

Much later, when it was already dark, Howard returned.

"Where the hell have you been?" Vince shouted, getting up angrily. "I'm starving here. Been working hard all day and when I return all I find are some lousy beans! I thought we weren't getting no beans no more." Howard said nothing, he just stormed past and as the moonlight shone on him, Vince caught a brief glimpse at the gash in the side of his head. He gasped; "What happened to your face?"

"Came across a bear." Howard muttered, quietly, "The horse spooked and threw me to the floor."

"You okay?"

"Hmph. Been out searching for the food. All I found was beans."

"You're a damned fool." Vince exclaimed, ripping off his neck scarf. "You should've come back as soon as you were hurt."

"Yeah, well, I knew you'd be moaning about the beans so..."

"Don't be a jerk. Trying to make this out to be my fault" Vince almost shouted, as Howard stormed to the fire and began to fan the flames like a madman.

"Howard."

Howard ignored him, fanning and preparing the pots.

"Howard."

More fanning; more preparing.

"Howard!"

"What?" the older man snapped eventually, making the other man jump.

"Sit down!" Vince sounded so angry that Howard just sat dumbly. "There you go." he said soothingly, dipping his scarf into the boiling water and pressing it gently to Howard's gash. He winced and then, as it suddenly dawned on him how close Vince was and just how intimate this action seemed to be, he swatted at him. Removing the scarf from Vince's skinny hand, he dabbed the wound himself. Vince looked a little hurt (after all, he'd only been trying to help) but Howard successfully quashed the small feeling of guilt that had crept up inside him.

They sat in silence for a while, both just watching the low flames dancing in the night time, until Vince spoke up, predictably the first to lose is patience with the quiet.

"We gotta do something about this food situation. I ain't eating them damn beans again."

"We ain't got no choice." Howard grimaced, moving the scarf further on to the gash. Vince eyed the wound and nibbled his lower lip nervously but he managed to restrain his need to help.

"Well I ain't putting up with it. Can't we kill ourselves a sheep."

"We're supposed to be looking after them not eating them. Imagine what Fossil will say." More wincing.

"He won't say nothing. He won't even notice. Here." He prized the scarf from Howard's fingers. "Let me."

Howard was all ready to protest but as Vince's soft, almost feminine hands took over, it felt strangely natural. Vince mopped up the gash quietly, his tongue poking out adorably as he concentrated and when he pulled away, Howard felt lost without the contact.

Maybe it was because he was tired, maybe it was the lack of blood, maybe it was the low food-craving rumble in his stomach or maybe it was something else, something unnameable, but as Vince went to wash his scarf out Howard said; "I'll shoot us a deer tomorrow."

--

The boys carried on in this way for a while. Vince walking around moaning incessantly about the work Fossil was making him do. Howard cooking beans and whatever he'd shot that day, just so that Vince would not moan about the meals.

"He's got no right." Vince was saying as he was washing himself by the tent.

"Who?"

"Fossil. I reckon I'm commuting four hours a day. Go up there watch the sheep. Come back here, eat a meal, go back, watch them some more, come back, eat another meal, go up there and spend the night waiting for Coyote's to shoot."

"Or miss?" Howard muttered under his breath. He'd never seen another man so useless with a gun.

"I reckon it's against some kinda law." Vince announced eventually, coming into view buttoning his shirt slowly and Howard couldn't help but notice the translucent quality of the skin on Vince's chest.

"I'll go up." Howard offered, gaze returning to the food he was cooking.

"Nah, it's-"

"I don't mind. I'd like to sleep up there."

"That ain't the point." Vince said bitterly, resting on the log next to Howard, "We should both be sleeping in this camp."

"Well..." Howard stopped. He really had nothing to say.

"I'm happy to swap with you." Vince grinned, after realising that Howard wasn't going to finish his sentence. "But I've gotta warn you, I can't cook for shit."

Howard smirked; "Can't be worse than me though."

--

Vince felt weird as he watched Howard riding off that evening. It felt wrong. They should be here, together. Well, not _together_ as such, but there's no way either of them ought to be sleeping up with the sheep.

--

Every night, Howard would return from the sheep, and every night he would find Vince bent over the fire, his hands cut to pieces.

"Can't use a tin opener quite right." he'd grinned, the first time Howard had eyed his hands suspiciously.

Now, Vince was strolling around, flicking his rodeo belt buckle, trying to draw maximum attention to it. Howard rolled his eyes, he'd resisted this bait everyday for a week but for some reason as Vince walked past him for the umpteenth time tonight, Howard finally succumbed to the metallic 'ping' sound as Vince's fingernail came into contact with the buckle.

"I don't rodeo much myself." he said.

"No?" Vince asked, sitting down too close to Howard.

"What's the point in riding some piece of stock for eight seconds?"

"Money's good."

"Sure enough. You know my old man, he reckoned that all rodeo riders were crazy."

"We are." beamed Vince. Howard eyed him sceptically, worried that Vince may try and prove his point and he did;

"Yee-hah!" he whooped, suddenly jumping up and leaping around like a maniac. "Woo. Yeah."

Howard laughed. There was something strongly endearing about Vince and Howard was beginning to feel more and more comfortable around him.

--

"I'm sooooooooooo drunk." drawled Vince, letting his whiskey bottle roll from his fingers onto the floor.

"Hmph." Howard groaned, flopping back against the log. "That's 'cause You ain't able to handle your drink."

"Screw you." Vince giggled, "You're just as wasted as I am."

"No. No. You're worse off."

"Am not."

"Are." Howard insisted pushing himself shakily to his feet and staggering perilously close to the fire. "M'gonna go up to the sheep." he slurred, before falling over a kettle and landing hard on his ass. Vince giggled drunkenly and then looked up at the stars.

"It's too late now. Just leave them. You can sleep down here tonight with me." Vince blushed, he tried to blame the drink for his slip up of word order; but he couldn't help but feel he should actually be blaming the alcohol for making him brave enough to say something he'd been thinking about for a while now. Howard's stomach flipped. Images, sickening, forbidden images, started flicking into his brain and he shuddered. He had to get away from Vince, who now was gazing at Howard, his face crinkled with confusion.

"You okay? You look pale."

"M'fine." Howard muttered. "I'll sleep here by the fire."

"Don't be a fool." Vince scorned, crawling to the tent and returning with a thick blanket. "You'll freeze when the fire dies."

"Won't."

He did though. And he was shivering, shaking and making undignified whimpering noises when he finally heard Vince's voice shout;

"Howard! Quit your whining and get in here."

Howard didn't need asking twice.


	3. Chapter 3

_Howard stirred slightly. He could feel Hannah pulling his arm around her slender body. He held her close to him as she guided his hand slowly across her chest. He moaned lightly at the gesture but something was weird. It didn't feel quite right, it didn__'__t feel like Hannah__'__s chest. She guided his hand slowly down over her stomach but that didn__'__t really feel like Hannah__'__s either; down, (come to think of it, none of this felt like Hannah) down, down__…__ what the hell was that?! That certainly wasn__'__t Hannah__'__s. _

_He leapt up and scrabbled away, panic-stricken. When he looked up, he was met with big, blue, faux-innocent eyes; big, blue faux-innocent eyes that were far too close. Howard tried to push him away but Vince was stronger than he looked and kept him close. Their foreheads were pressed lightly together, lips almost touching, breath mingling; nose__'__s rubbing, gently, slowly, in a rhythmic dance. Vince pressed his cheek against the older man__'__s and both men shuddered at the unaccustomed feeling of stubble scrapping stubble as Vince nuzzled against him like a sleepy puppy. Before Howard had even really worked out what was happening, Vince had removed his jacket and was ripping off his jeans. And suddenly, something confusing and powerful inside Howard had taken over. He__'__d flipped Vince onto his front and it was all heavy breathing and passion and rage and then; blissful release of intense accumulating tension._

Howard shuddered as he remembered the nights events. He'd felt sick to the core when he'd woken up this morning. Ashamed and disgusted, he'd hoisted his jeans back up and refastened the belt. He'd looked over at the other man who'd still been sleeping; slight frame, rising and falling slowly as he breathed. He'd looked almost feminine in the murky light and Howard had hoped that in his drunken state his intoxicated brain had just mistaken Vince for a woman. After all, Vince was beginning to look more and more girly, especially as his hair was longer now. He hadn't cut it since they'd been up on Brokeback. Howard was fairly certain that the younger man thought it made him look like a rock star. It didn't. It made him look like an idiot but Howard hadn't had the heart to tell him.

Howard had tried to get out of there without disturbing Vince. He couldn't look him in the eye. Not now, not after… he shuddered again. But as he watched the sheep grazing, something, something deep, deep inside him, was telling him that he didn't regret it at all and the only reason he was shuddering was because the wind had picked up and his jacket was pretty thin.

Vince had watched Howard leave. He'd known he wouldn't be the talking type. He'd just galloped off, leaving his problems behind him. Vince sighed heavily, he reckoned Howard would need to time to think. Vince himself had never been one for much thinking. He just _did _and let the consequences catch up with him later but Howard clearly wasn't like him.

--

Vince heard the snapping of twigs and rustling of grass, which signalled Howard's arrival but he didn't look around, he didn't want to see the repulsion in his face. His stomach knotted furiously. He was terrified that Howard would want to beat the crap out of him and Vince had never been much of a fighter. So, in an attempt to avoid confrontation, he just stared out at the picturesque landscape and allowed Howard to make the first move. He got the feeling Howard liked to be in control. He was right, Howard did like to be in control and that was what terrified him most when he saw Vince. He didn't _feel _in control around him. In fact, he felt distinctly out of control, as though something, something inside that he didn't understand, took over him.

Vince heard the nervous throat clearing and the rustling of fabrics as Howard sat down on the grass just inches away. Vince was overcome with a wafting scent of smoke and whiskey that was so… Howard, and he felt an overwhelming desire for proximity. He couldn't explain it. He'd never felt like this before about anyone, ever. He'd never had the need to just be close to someone before, the need to just take in someone's scent, to relish in holding them close, to be held.

"This is just a one-shot thing, yeah?" Howard said in a monotone, breaking Vince's blissful daydream.

Vince nodded mutedly.

"Can't nobody know about this." The older man continued.

"Ain't nobody's business but ours." Vince agreed, his stomach unfurling as he stole a glance at the other man and saw he wasn't angry.

Howard was just staring ahead of him contemplatively. So Vince took a deep breath and edged gingerly closer to Howard until their shoulders rubbed together.

"And I ain't no queer." Howard clarified, putting his arms around his friend's shoulders.

"Yeah, well me neither." agreed Vince, burying himself deeper into the embrace, the whiskey, smokey scent engulfing him again. "No way." he mumbled peacefully.

--

Howard was back to cooking the meals. He was sick of eating the uncooked horse dung that Vince kept producing, often with the added metallic taste of blood as Vince sliced through yet another finger whilst attempting to use the tin opener.

"Give it here." Howard had groaned, as Vince had hopped about with his finger in his mouth trying to stem the flow of blood.

"Thanks." Vince had beamed, reaching up to kiss him. Howard had taken a very large, very deliberate step backwards, face etched with horror and confusion causing Vince to dip his head and give some kind of mumbled apology before escaping to the sanctuary of the tent.

Howard wasn't stupid. He knew that the tent flap had been left open purposely, so that he had a good view of Vince as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Howard swallowed hard as Vince's pristine, pale torso and the slender slope of his shoulders, which were being tickled by Vince's ever lengthening jet black hair, were revealed like a long-awaited masterpiece.

He looked away. He couldn't let _this_, this animalistic, passionate, crazy, crazy _thing_, take over him again. Well, surely one more look couldn't hurt. His eyes darted to the tent and were immediately met by a pare of blue ones staring straight back. Shit. Howard dropped the pot and as it fell it sliced his finger. Howard cursed loudly and wiped the blood in his shirt. Even though he refused to let his eyes wander back to Vince, he knew he was still being watched, probably smirked at, probably by a face that said 'see, and you had a go at me for cutting myself'.

Eventually, the mounting pressure from that blue-gaze became too much for Howard and he surrendered to their immense power. He walked nervously to the tent and knelt down at the entrance. Vince pushed himself into a sitting position. He took Howard's trembling hand and brought the bleeding finger to his lips and whispered;

"See, opening a can's not as easy as you think."

He began to press light kisses all over the tiny cut, eyes still fixed on Howard, taking in everything; his deep, thoughtful eyes, his sweet, enticing lips, his unfathomable expression. Howard swallowed hard, he felt like Vince was gazing right into his soul, learning more about him than even Howard himself knew.

Vince silently took the finger into his mouth, sucking it gently, until suddenly, Howard jumped and pulled his hand away sharply as though Vince were made of acid. Vince looked hurt and surprised but Howard just sat, stunned and unmoving. After a moment or two, when his courage had swelled again, he leaned towards Vince, tantalisingly close but still not ready to close the minuscule gap. Vince tried to push forward and capture the kiss himself but Howard darted just out of reach. This had to be on his terms.

Hot breath mingling, cheeks rubbing, noses bumping. Howard watched the other man's needy expression intently. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly ajar. Just waiting, waiting for Howard to make his move and then;

"Please." Vince begged, his voice a whispered, desperate, whimper. And Howard surrendered to the plea and pressed his lips against Vince's. It was slow, soft, sensual and then, as they hit their stride,… a flurry of action. Howard's hands went to Vince's naked torso, groping blindly, still trying to understand the million and one emotions that were coursing through his veins. Vince's hand rose softly to Howard's sides, clutching at his shirt, trying frantically to pull him closer, if that were at all possible.

When the kiss was broken, Howard didn't look at Vince. He just buried his head deep into the younger man's chest, whispering 'I'm sorry' over and over again in a distraught, jumbled mess. Howard wasn't sure who he was apologising to or what he was apologising for but it made him feel better to say it out loud. Vince just responded by pressing tender kisses against his temple, whilst repeating the same sweet lie;

"It'll be okay."

But Howard knew it wouldn't be okay. _This _could never be okay and the more Vince said it, the sicker he felt. He could almost feel the bile rising in his stomach and the dull, anonymous ache in his chest and he knew this would haunt him forever; this forbidden love.

* * *

**Firstly; big thank you to Left T for looking through this and helping to make it much better!! Thank you!  
Secondly; big thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed so far...  
Thirdly; I'm proper nervous (lol) about this one, because descriptions are NOT my forte and i've found myself using lots of them!**

**Love you all!  
Sisi...xx**


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